


Welcome to Hope There is a Tomorrow

by twistedMagic



Category: Amour Sucré, Corazón de Melón
Genre: F/M, M/M, ZooomBiiiEEeeesSS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5107877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedMagic/pseuds/twistedMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The event inspired me (?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Welcome to Hope There is a Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> No beta'd

_BANG._

 

That’s all what could be heard. A shot.

 

Daria’s eyes widened at the sight of blood. Her hand was trembling with the shotgun being held tightly. She killed someone, she just killed Violet. The girl she had been friends with was dead due a headshot. Violet used to be an artistic and quiet girl, she was shy and blushed easily. It was fun to be with her, also she knew how to draw and always did her best. Kim, Violet and Daria were the best friends. But now Violet was dead.

 

The grey-eyed still held gripped the shotgun as she walked backwards, tears wanted to spill down her eyes but she closed them and opened them. She couldn’t allow it. The girl she just shot wasn’t her friend. Her friend didn’t have rotten skin and half of her brains out. Her friend used to have pale skin and beautiful short curly hair. Her friend was dead before she shot her but know she was definitely a _goner_.

 

Once she managed to compose herself she looked around. The pink institute was not the same. Everything was covered with blood and rotten. Handprints of blood were normal to see in the lockers or the glasses. Windows were mainly broken and the pieces were lying on the floor. The lights blinked (if there were, that’s it. They could be broken as well). Everything was wrecked.

 

Because that was life now.

 

 

“This isn’t living, this is just surviving” She thought and then looked down at herself, she used to wear black jeans. Now they turned into a dirty grey-ish color and ripped, eventually they turned into shorts. She had black strings tied on the high part of her legs which was to put her guns. She actually forgot the chainsaw, more like, gave it to the guys (Castiel, the Secondhand and Kentin, the Strategist). Two shotguns could do the same work, right?

 

She kept walking deeper into the institute. According to Researcher (Tate), there was some data in the old library, the remains of it. Books that could be useful in survival manners and how to stop this madness.

 

Said door was locked and covered in wood, and nails she had to kick them in order to enter. It wasn’t difficult to break them, they were old and wet. Once she managed to get inside, she pressed her hand to her leg where the gun was. She gulped and tried to cool her mind.

 

Daria looked around, it seemed empty. Then again, everything seemed empty until they smelled _flesh._

 

She walked fast and looked at each cover of the books. A couple of books were destroyed and pages were ripped, but she carried them anyway. Three books was the limit of carrying otherwise running while defending itself was hard. Two ripped books and one that was legible.

 

Looking around, the place was genuinely empty. There seemed parts of clothes lying around, her eyes filled with sadness when she identified part of her favorite explorer (Lysander)’s black long coat. Her fist clenched tightly and she shook her head.

 

“It was his decision to go on his own” A voice in her head repeated “It was his. Not yours” Even though she knew, her heart twisted in pain knowing he probably was a goner. It’s been five days. Nobody can survive on its own five days surrounded by walking corpses who crave blood.

 

With the firm thought of returning, she went on the run with the books. The base was quite far away and the battle field was always a dangerous path. So she had to go from roof to roof, cutting herself with metal was not as worrisome as a poisonous bite. Her left hand was pressing against her chest along the books. And her right hand was still touching the gun, not pulling it. Bullets and medical aid was hard to find. Who produced it when it was massive infection? No one. No one could.

 

And that’s how it took her one hour to go back towards the basement. Some _deadly people_ walked in circles, smelling _Fear_ : an alive person with a beating heart. The sound of blood pumping through the veins.

 

After that horrible moment, she knocked the door seven times. Stopped. And knocked three more. Stopped again, and kicked the door. A female using a white big shirt received her, it was Tate. Her pants were at least one size bigger than the ones she needed, so a belt was necessary. And she was wearing sandals.

 

“Clean clothes” Daria thought “Clean clothes, places to take a bath. Decent shoes, medical aids…We need lots of them”

 

-          Daria, hi. Could you find them? –She shyly asked. Sometimes it fascinated Daria how such a small and fragile figure could contain such a intelligent fierce.

 

-          Yeah, about that –She extended to them, she had no bag or whatsoever- Two of them are damaged. One is legible. I think there were more, should I return?

 

 

-          …Hold a sec –The pink-eyed said and grabbed from her neck the headset, she collocated them and pressed her fingers against the right ear. Then a small red light turned on, it was in speaker mode- Strategist, can you hear me?

 

A static sound could be heard, followed by silence. Then he replied back.

 

-          Researcher, not the best moment. Secondhand is in the middle of the plan. Make it fast.

 

After those words there was a noise of similar to bullets falling to the floor and then a quick motion.

 

-          Strategist?! –Tate panicked- Can you copy me?!

 

-          …I, yes. Spit it.

 

 

-          FirstLine is asking if she should return to carry more data. Is it safe to send her? She returned an hour ago, it took her three hours in total to go to said position.

 

It was a minute of silence but it felt like an eternity for both girls. The Strategist decided and just sighed on the line.

 

-          I’d take the risk if it was all by myself. FirstLine is good and quick, but if she went alone to a locked place. It’s not safe. The _deadly people_ already felt the _Fear_. We don’t want another down-

 

-          Kentin! –She interrupted, her voice sounding mad at him- Do not _dare_ to say that about Lysander. He is fine!

 

Daria looked away at the mere mention of the albino, whom was actually her current husband. He proposed to her at the age of just nineteen. And she was eighteen. It was the craziest thing that happened to her in that moment, especially because they dated for two years. Right now, she was missing those days when that could have been normal. Now days everything was so different and repulsive.

 

-          Tate, let’s be realistic. The chances are low, I don’t want to think that but I have no other choice.

 

-          … I know just… Just take care of yourself –At that the freckled girl turned off the speaker mode. Only herself was allowed to hear ‘I will, Tate. I love you’. Her pink eyes had some tears in the corner of her eyes as she said ‘I love you too’.

 

The grey-eyed pretended not to just have heard that. And the freckled girl pretended that she wasn’t crying.


End file.
